Bride of The Stars
by FairyRingsandWings
Summary: The Kree have conquered much of the galaxy and peace can only be maintained through a marriage alliance. Yonvers. Complete on Ao3.
1. Part I

**Bride of The Stars**

**Summary: **The Kree have conquered much of the galaxy and peace can only be maintained through a marriage alliance.

**(A/N) **This is a belated birthday prezzie for the lovely DenseHumboldt on Ao3. Just a wee thank you for all the amazing yonvers content you've given our ship! Your stories are always incredible and unique! Beware the tags everyone, this ones a dark story. I've got most of the next chapter written out. I'm still working on my other stories but I needed a wee break from them, kinda burned myself out with too much writing. Let me know what you think! xx

**Tags:** #Dark #No Redemption #No Hope #Villains Win #Kree Win #Conquered Galaxy #Arranged Marriage #Angst #Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

* * *

"Captain Marvel has escaped."

The damning admission is whispered by a hesitant tongue. The Kree Captain keeps his head bowed, body shaking ever so slightly as he cowers in the shadow of the _Helion_.

Yon-Rogg is standing at the bottom of the ramp of his ship, his hands clasped behind his back, posture rigid. Around him is a flurry of activity, as Kree soldiers attempt to salvage what is left of their Homebase on E-23. The buildings are burning, their weapons vault destroyed, and the political prisoners they had acquired have escaped by aid of his former student. Smoke billows through the air, carrying with it the thick smell of sulphur and burned debris.

"Isn't that disappointing," Yon-Rogg replies calmly.

He is not surprised by the news. Finding where Vers had been and predicting where she would go was easy, catching her, less so. She was always on the move, his fleeing star sending ripples through the cosmos, known to all who saw her trail. Captain Marvel. A hero of the stars. Enemy of the Kree. A traitor.

He wonders if she ever tires of it all. All the good she thought she was doing, all amounts to nothing in the end. They were but fleeting losses to the Kree, a temporary triumph that was ultimately hollow for her. One day soon, she would realise the folly of it all. Whatever she destroyed, they would rebuild, stronger than before. Whatever campaign or mission she impeded, they would begin a new. Whichever criminals and traitors she freed, would be recaptured. Whichever planet she liberated, would be brought back into the Kree Empire, back into the wisdom and protection of the Supreme Intelligence. There was nothing she could do that could not be undone. She was but one person, powerful and bright as a blazing sun, but even the brightest of stars fade. She could never defeat them. Not truly.

"I gave you prior warning that she was headed here. You should have been better prepared," Yon-Rogg said bitingly. He is frustrated that another opportunity to apprehend her has been lost. "The Supreme Intelligence will not be pleased."

The Captain swallows, nodding his head in acceptance.

Yon-Rogg dismisses him and returns to the ship. Bron-Char and Att-Lass say nothing as he orders them to bring the ship back into orbit.

They will have to reassess the situation, figure out where Vers will be next heading. The last decade that is all they have been doing, tracking and chasing her down across the galaxy. There is no one more suited for the job. He knows her better than anyone, knows the way she thinks, her morals, her motivations and skills. He has been able to predict and counter many of her schemes and destinations over the years, thwarting her as often as she thwarts them.

Yon-Rogg goes to his room and stands before the floor-length window. He looks at the vast darkness, eyes trailing over the twinkling stars in the distance. She is out there somewhere, just out of his reach. She cannot run from him forever. Sooner or later he would catch her. He has too. For the good of all Kree and for herself. She needs him, even if she refuses to admit it. Without him, she has allowed herself to be manipulated by the Skrulls and their lies. She has been turned against the very empire that took her in as one of their own, giving her a second chance at life, a chance to work towards a greater good.

She was noble, good-hearted, and he wanted to grab her and shake her for how foolish and mistaken she had become. Did she not see that what she was doing was the exact opposite? That she was helping no one but the enemy. She was robbing people of the Kree's protection, of their Supremors guidance and stability, ruining the superior economic and social systems that had been put in place to help planets thrive. She was putting them in danger of invasive species such as the Skrull and so much more. She has to be stopped. She has to be brought back into the fold, where she belongs. Back to him.

The years apart have been agony. He misses her more than he can bear. He longs to see her golden hair and hazel eyes alight with mischief, her cheeky mouth quirked in its teasings smile. He wants to hear her inappropriate humour and feel her affectionate and playful touches. He wants them to go back to how it once was. Him her guiding teacher and devoted friend, always there to comfort her in her moments of need. He wants to be the one to bring out her true potential so she can shine with the glory of a raging sun.

He wants even more than that, things he has never dared hope for before.

He wants nothing more than to crush her to his chest, inhale the sweet scent that clings to her hair, and feel the softness of the skin on her neck upon his lips. He wants to make her his in every way that there is, leaving no doubt in hers or anyone's mind that she was his and only his. Just as he was hers and always would be.

If he had to rip the galaxy apart to get her back, so be it.

He would hunt her down and save her from herself.

* * *

"Talos, you and your people need to leave."

_"And go where, Carol?"_

The Skrull General sounds tried, desolate. Decades of war and hiding have worn him thin. It has withered away at both of them. With every new mission, her heart and soul become a little more bruised, never having the time to fully recover. There is evil to fight, new plots to stop, lives to save and no time to just... breathe. She is exhausted and frustrated. Each day brings a new battle in the ever ongoing war. The Kree are like a relentless ocean and she the stony beach protecting the land. Sooner or later, even the hardest of rocks begin to be worn away.

Carol runs a hand through her hair, letting out an exhausted sigh. She did not want it to come to this, but there is no other choice.

"Away. Far away before the Kree get there. The Xanderians sent me a warning that the Kree are only a few days travel away from your location. I won't be able to get there in time to help you," Carol says, her voice hiding none of her helplessness. "I'll find you a new planet. Somewhere better. Somewhere they will never find you-"

_"Carol, they will always find us," Talos cuts in, shaking his head. "This is the fifth time in the last ten years that we've had to move on. I can't keep doing this to my people. Every time we settle and finally begin to call a place home, the Kree show up and we must flee like rodents. There are less and less places for us to go, now that the Kree's conquest of the galaxy has become more aggressive. There is nowhere that their power does not reach."_

The last decade has been difficult. Four infinity stones have fallen into the Krees had, and with it, they have become almost unstoppable. They are more determined than ever to bring the galaxy under the governance of their beloved Intelligence. Every year another planet falls under their rule. She saves as many people as she can, but there was only so much one women could do. Not long after she helps a planet, the Kree swarm to it and undo her work.

Sometimes a cynical part of her wonders why she bothers.

But then she remembers the faces of the creatures she has seen, suffering under the Supreme Intelligence rule. Innocent people being hurt or killed for refusing to bend their knee to the Kree, their cultures eradicated or forever damaged, their homes and livelihoods destroyed and their children knowing nothing but fear and poverty. It makes her fight harder, even as her body and soul wail for want of rest. There is no time for it.

"I'm sorry, Talos," Carol sighs. "I don't know what else to do."

_"I know, Carol. I know."_ Talos leans back in his chair, nothing but misery and hopelessness in his eyes. _"Stay safe."_

Carol disconnects the transmission and leans forward, resting her head in her hands.

This war was never going to end... was it?

* * *

Ever since she woke up on Hala, Carol has had trouble sleeping. A decade later, it is still a challenge, one that has only become worse since she remembered who she really was. She is haunted by the same dream that she was on Hala. She is standing by a lake, smoke wafting around her as her plane lays in a burning heap beside her. No longer does a Skrull emerge from the smoke, ready to kill her. It is much worse.

Yon-Rogg stands before her, a gun pointed at her.

Tears slip down her cheeks, her heart aching so much that she cannot breathe and then she is waking up in a gasping panic. Alone in her ship, there is no one to turn to for comfort. She sits in the darkness, hugging her knees to her chest, her body wracking with sobs.

She no longer believes that time will dim the hurt that she feels. Ten years and still the mere thought of him is enough to rob her of her joy. His betrayal has left a throbbing wound on her heart, one that is unhealable. He was her best friend. Her mentor. Her Commander. There was never a second where she doubted him, never a second were she thought that he would hurt her. It was an impossible notion. Yon-Rogg had looked out for her, cared for her and comforted her. He had been patient with her, never angering even when she pushed his buttons and disobeyed his orders. There wasn't a single thing about him she had not adored. His patience, his subtle way of teasing her, the way he barely hid his amusement at her antics, his piercing golden eyes and smile.

She had always thought that one day they would end up together. Silly as it seems now. There had always been a pull between them, something that seemed inevitable. Now she knows why he never allowed them to take that step in their relationship. Why whenever their training became too heated, too passionate, he would end it. Why he always pulled away during tender moments when a kiss had been but a breath away.

She knows he is out there somewhere. Her sources say he is looking for her. She evades him, will continue to evade him for as long as needs. He may not be as powerful as her, but that does mean he is no threat. He knows her unlike any other and that makes him the most dangerous threat of them all. It does not help that her feelings for him persist.

She prefers the dreams of the lakeside, it reminds her of what he is, an enemy and a liar. They are better than the _other_ ones that torment her. The ones that she pretends never happen, the ones that she pushes deep into the back of her mind, longing for them to be forgotten. Dreams which start off as memories of their times together, sometimes they training in the old gym, other times they are on the _Helion_ or at their apartments. They always end in an entanglement of nude limbs, desperate and needy gasps, whispered confessions, teeth, nails and blue blood dripping from their lips.

No... it's better to pretend that she has never dreamed of such things. Worse still, that she yearns for it even now.

* * *

"You can't be serious?"

"Captain Marvel, given the circumstances, I am very serious."

Carol paces before the hologram of the Nova Prime, her arms crossed tightly across her chest and a scowl set firmly on her face. She has been unable to help relocate the Skrulls these past weeks, a transmission from Xander requesting her assistance which has kept her away. She had been told that it was of the utmost importance, that the fate of Xander was on the line. A peace treaty was about to be signed with the Kree and her presence was required.

"This is ridiculous," Carol snorts, "you can't honestly believe that peace can be secured through these means?"

The Nova Prime sighs. "I don't, but it will buy us time to regroup and restrategize. The Kree's tactic of divide and conquer is destroying us. They have conquered five planets within our inner territory, slicing our empire in half. We have been cut off from each other, limiting our resources, increasing the difficulty of successfully carrying out military operations and separating families."

Carol looks at the Nova Prime, seeing the weight of an entire empire crushing down on the women's shoulders. It is a desperate feeling she knows too well.

"We've had reports that the Kree are in negotiations with our neighbouring planets. If they come to an agreement, which it looks likely that they will, they will stop trade with us. There are already massive food, water and material shortages. We cannot survive for much longer, not without trade. We are being suffocated."

Carol feels sick to her stomach as the severity of the situation sinks in.

The Xanderians are one of the largest empires in the galaxy. They have proven to be a formidable opponent against the Kree and it is thanks to their efforts that countless people have been saved from the Kree and other aggressive forces. Millions have taken refuge within their worlds, some the last of their kind. Should Xander fall, it is over. The Kree would have no powerful entities left to oppose them. With Xander consumed by the Kree Empire, it would open a new wave of planets hidden beyond the Xander boarders to vulnerability. The galaxy needs Xander in this war. There are too many lives depending on them.

Carol's powers flare around her hands as fury swells within her.

Why couldn't anything go right? Weren't the heroes meant to win? That was the way the story was supposed to go, wasn't it?

And yet... the Skrulls have been flushed out of their hiding place and were once again on the run. Her most powerful ally against the Kree, the Xanderians, were practically on their knees. Hundreds of planets had fallen to the Kree Empire. The Supreme Intelligence spiderweb network of influence and knowledge now stretches across the galaxy. There were practically no places left for refugees and rebellions to hide.

She felt like was teetering on the edges of a black hole, a dark endless abyss that drained away all the hope and light from the galaxy.

How could she, with all her powers and strength, feel so helpless?

"A marriage alliance is not ideal and it is a rather unorthodox means to seal a peace treaty given both Xanderian and Kree systems of governing, but if this is the price we have to pay to breathe then we have no other choice," the Nova Prime continued.

Carol flops down onto the pilot seat and lets out a huff. Of all the ways that peace could be brought about, for the alliance to be secured, this was the way that the Kree had chosen? It seemed medieval, out-dated and an unstable means to balance peace on. So many lives relied on the success of this treaty.

"And what poor soul is getting married off to a Kree elite? You?"

The Nova Prime diverts her eyes, suddenly looking less tired and more nervous. Carol gestures for more information. "Well? Who is it?"

"The representative for the Kree is the eldest son of an influential and elite clan, a high ranking Commander well respected among the Kree populace," The Nova Prime explains, her voice careful and measured. "As for our representative, the Kree have made... a request of us. If we do not concede to it, then there will be no treaty."

"You're doing an amazing job at avoiding my question," Carol drawls, rolling her eyes. "And you still haven't explained why I'm needed here. If anything, my presence will aggravate the treaty. In case you forgot I'm there number one most wanted. If they find out we're allies, they won't be lenient."

"They already know that we are allied."

Carol sits up a little straighter in her chair, chilled by the revelation. If that was true then why were they attempting to make peace with the Xanders? "And they're okay with that?"

The Nova Prime purses her lips, her shoulders bracing as though for an impact. "It's the only reason they are entertaining the peace treaty."

Carol narrows her eyes, dread pooling in her stomach.

Finally, the Nova Prime sighs, unable to put off her reveal any longer. "The Kree have requested that the Xanderian representative be someone of equal value, an influential hero of the people. The Kree want _you_ to be our representative in the marriage treaty."

Carol feels like the rug had been pulled out from under her. She stares at the Nova Prime through wide eyes, scarcely believing what she has heard. She let out a choked laugh. "Funny. I didn't know you had a sense of humour. Not gonna lie, I think it could use some work."

The Nova Prime remains silent.

"Is there punch line in there somewhere?" Carol's nervous smile falters. "Oh my god. You're serious, aren't you?"

"Very."

Carol shakes her head in disbelief. She feels like the air has been knocked from her. Her voice verges on hysterical as she speaks, so worked up at the absurdity of it all. "I... I can't be your representative. I am not an Xanderian nor do I have any connection to your empire outside of being an ally! It makes no sense that I should have to do this! This is nothing more than a trap to get me back, can you not see that?"

"I can understand your reservations-"

"Clearly not if you're still asking me to do it!"

The moment she stepped foot on Hala they would never let her leave. This wasn't about peace, this was an elaborate rouse to flush her out and eliminate her as a threat to their empire.

"You have aided us greatly against many threats to our people," the Nova Prime continues gravely, ignoring her outburst. "I do not ask this of you lightly. But we need this opportunity if we want to survive. You have three days to give me your answer. Three days to decide the fate of Xander."

It was hardly a choice at all.


	2. Part II

_"Captain Marvel, the date of the wedding has been selected. It will be at..."_

_"Captain Marvel?"_

_"... you will need to attend a dress fitting..."_

_"...the border planet between Xander and Hala has been chosen to host the event... the temple of Xer-ply will be the venue for the ceremony..."_

_"Captain Marvel, please respond. We have much to do. The final treaty has almost been drawn up..."_

_"Captain Marvel? Do you read me? This is Nova Corp, we just need to discuss a few matters about the wedding..."_

_"Captain? Captain?"_

Carol tosses the communicator across the room, satisfied as she hears it crack against the wall.

Just because she agreed to this nonsense doesn't mean she has to make it easy for them. She's being petty and childish, she knows, but she needs this small act of rebellion. It's not like she's allowed to have any say on the wedding anyway, it's all being taken care of by a team of Kree and Xanderians, to create a blend of both cultures. Not that she wants to help with arranging her own glorified sacrificial ceremony.

She does not care if the dress that she isn't getting to pick fits. She doesn't care what her bridesmaids - handmaidens, the Xanderians call them - wear, these strangers whose role she has once envisioned her dearest friends in. She could not be less interested in the theme, the flowers, decorative jewels, menu or vows. It all leaves a bitter taste on her tongue and sickening ache in her stomach.

This isn't how a wedding should be.

They were meant to be happy occasions, organised by a couple who loved each other and wanted to be married, by choice and not the threat of war.

She keeps trying to remind herself that this is for the greater good. She is giving the galaxy breathing space, time for her allies to come up with better strategies and regroup themselves. This may not be the role that she wanted in the war, but it was the role that she has to play - for now. This marriage was nothing but a paper one. Once the Kree were defeated she would end it and put this nightmare behind her.

Carol lays on her bed, staring at the ceiling. While the wedding has been planned and the politicians argued out the peace treaty, she has stayed on her ship, orbiting Xander. She cannot bear to step foot down on the planet, not now that she has been offered to the Kree like a sacrificial lamb. She knows they had no choice, but she cannot help but feel the sting of betrayal and hurt at the whole ordeal. After everything she has done for them, this is what they ask of her?

It gets worse the next day when a copy of the treaty is transmitted to her ship.

_Vers, alias Captain Marvel-_ Carol grits her teeth and lets out an angry puff of air as she reads the treaty. There was no doubt that the Kree had insisted on referring to her as Vers. _-agrees to discontinue the use of her powers and combat skills against the Kree, unless to defend herself when physically threatened._

"You have got to be kidding me?" Carol gasps. "They can't be serious?"

She had been right, this was a ploy to take her out of the war, to control her.

Carol slams her legs onto the ship's console and leans back in her chair, irritably stabbing her straw into her buttercream milkshake.

_Her husband will also agree to suspend all military involvement against_ _ Xander and use of combat skills against the Xanderians._

This was an attempt to even the playing field. The Xanderians may have lost a powerful ally, but the Kree were agreeing to give up a valuable asset of their own. Whether or not they compared to her skills though, was arguable.

_Should either party breach these agreements, the peace treaty will be void and war will continue between Xander and the Kree Empire._

"Great," Carol mutters.

_The couple will live in Hala for half of an Xanderian year and the remaining months on Xander._

Carol feels grateful for that. She will not be banished forever to Hala. It seems the Xanderians had at least attempted to fight her corner during negotiations. She signs and lifts her straw to her lips, taking a large sip of her drink. It tastes as sour as she feels.

_Any offspring produced within the marriage will be..._

Carols chokes on her drink, sputtering it across herself and her ships console.

Children. They had discussed the prospect of children in the negotiations? Carol pales, mortified and horrified that a group of high-ranking politicians and military personnel - allies, enemies and strangers alike - have talked about this, and without her presence no less! She feels violated by the knowledge, disturbed and embarrassed.

_That_ was something that she would _never_ allow. There would be no children as a result of this bogus marriage! No sexy times either.

_... considered Kree and Xander citizens, protected by both empires laws and constitutions..._

_Both marriages partners will be expected to attend the bi-monthly Kree-Xander relations conferences..._

_... neither will be informed of any military decisions or classified intel..._

_... mandatory that they attend the yearly peace celebrations..._

Carol is flustered and ill at ease as she reads over the treaty. Her eyes shift to the window. Countless stars wink invitingly. She wishes to join them, to leave Xanderian atmosphere, forget about this wretched treaty, and fly away faster than she has ever flown before.

But she can't.

Running away was never who she was.

* * *

It was a few days before the wedding that she receives a gift, delivered by a Kree messenger.

Nova Corps snitched that she was not being very helpful in the wedding preparations. On the insistence of Nova Prime, she has been brought to Xander for a dress fitting and to be told what to expect on the wedding day. She has been curious about what style of bride that they would dress her up as, Xander, Kree or a mix of the two? She is surprised when the dress is unveiled.

"Nove Prime believed you would prefer to wear something of your own culture," the designer - a tall Xanderian woman with pink skin, green eyes and dark hair styled in an intricate bun - says. "My research shows that from the area of Terra that you come from traditionally favours white for a bride."

Carol is begrudged to admit it, but the dress is gorgeous, even if it is a little too fairytale princess for her liking. The skirt was embedded with glittering crystals and flares out with a long trail. It has draping capes sleeves and the bodice has a white version of her insignia embroiled on it, subtly done with ivory thread. There was a long glistening veil as well, though Carol refuses to wear the diamond tiara.

"Why is it some brides on Terra wear white?" the designer asks as she began adjusting the dress, clipping pins into place where changes will have to be made. "Here on Xander, brides usually wear orange or yellow colours."

"It's supposed to represent purity," Carol snorts. "Some places on my planet prefer red though."

"And why the veil?"

"I'm sure it was something to do with scaring off evil spirits." She remembers Monica excitedly telling her about it one time. "I'm really not sure. I've only ever attended one wedding and that was when I was ten, it was my Aunts. It wasn't something I was ever interested in either, so I'm pretty clueless about all the traditions and their meanings."

"I hear that the Kree brides wear blue gowns with silver armour, any bare skin is painted with swirls of black paint, I'm not sure what they mean," the designer said absentmindedly.

"I wouldn't mind the armour," Carol mused. It felt like she was going into battle, it could have come in handy.

"Speaking of, a gift from your fiancé arrived early today."

_Fiancé_, the word made Carol shudder.

"Gift? How... thoughtful," Carol said unsurely.

The designer fetches the parcel and places it before her.

"I'll be back in a moment, I need to go find the shoes that you will be wearing."

Once she is gone, Carol looks over the gift. It is a black leather box adorned with green crystals which form the constellation _Trethna. _The cluster of stars looks like interlocking crescent moons.

On Hala, there was a rather controversial love story attached to it. Two lovers from different worlds, unable to be with one another while their planets were at war. It was only under the cover of moonlight and shadows that they were able to be with one another fleetingly. She only knows the story because Yon-Rogg had shared it with her on one of her dream ridden nights that left her unable to sleep. Rather than going to the gym, he had taken her to a viewing tower on the upper levels of Hala, where they had spent the night stargazing and reminiscing previous missions.

Carol traces the constellation with her finger.

She wonders if Yon-Rogg has heard what was to become of her. The bastard probably thought she has finally got her comeuppance. After all her efforts to escape the Kree, she was once again being brought back. Amnesia had once been her chains to Hala, and now it was the peace treaty and the marriage that would bind her there. She could no longer cause the Kree or him any trouble. This marriage was most likely the best news he had ever heard in regards to her.

Carol closes her eyes, unable to stop the rush of memories.

_Exasperated smiles..._

_Golden eyes twinkling with hidden mirth..._

_Words of encouragement..._

_Tender touches and playful nudges..._

Carol loathes the way that her heart throbs with loss. Even after everything he had done, she still misses him. Still wants him.

Anger swells in her chest and in a fit of rage she tosses the box across the room. Leather coated wood rains down on the floor as the box shatters against the wall. The items inside fall to the floor with a loud thunk.

She hates this. She _hates_ this miserable, disgusting situation. How could everything turn out so wrong? So twisted?

Cautiously, she turns to the fallen gift. It is a pair of green gauntlets. _Marriage gauntlets_, Carol recognises them as. It was a tradition carried out when both parties of a marriage were warriors. Usually, the partner who proposed would have gauntlets specially made, the insignia or crests of the two uniting families engraved upon them. They were highly decorative and not suited for actual battle, instead being used as ornamentation or for formal events. They were a sign of devotion, a promise from the giver that they would protect and support their beloved, that they trusted them to protect them in return.

Carol is surprised to find that the left gauntlet has her own insignia, her golden star with strikes of red, blue and gold. The right gauntlet has her fiancé's crest, a silver star with a dozen or so points, a red gem inserted in the centre.

There was something oddly familiar about it...

* * *

The day of the wedding comes far too quickly.

Carol is taken by ship to the venue. It is a beautiful colosseum like structure, made of white marble with a glass ceiling that shimmers in a rainbow of colours under certain lights. Draped on the outside are the Kree and Xanderians banners, fluttering in the light breeze. There are no crowds outside, the location of the venue has been hidden from the general public for security measures. Not everyone is happy with the treaty. Many of the Kree are particularly displeased and have taken to all forms of protest, they do not see the purpose of the treaty when victory was within their grasp. Only a few know the real reason for this sham.

All those who have been invited are already inside and seated. The guests consist of the wealthy elite, politicians, negotiators, high-ranking military individuals and representatives from each of the empires planets. They were all strangers, here to watch her walk into the lion's den. There are no friends in the crowds that will have amassed inside, only enemies and so-called allies.

Her six handmaidens lead her inside. They are dressed in black robes, each one carrying a tall candle that will be lit as they walk down the aisle to the alter. _To lead the way in the darkness_, she was told was the purpose, an Xanderian tradition. Each of the handmaidens also carries in a golden pouch a different item, a symbolic prayer to their Gods that the couple to be wed will never go without these essentials. Slices of bread, so they may never starve. A vial of water, so they may never thirst. Three golden coins, so they may never struggle financially. A piece of clay, the material that was once used to build homes on Xander in the olden days, so they may never be without shelter. A book, so they may always have wisdom. And finally, an Xanderian conch shell, a representation of love and kindness.

"Captain Marvel, your husband to be is waiting for you in the next room. When the bells ring fourteen times-" a Kree tradition, one ring for each month of the year "-then the grand doors will open. We will be waiting on the other side to lead you to the alter." The handmaidens' curtsy after telling her this, leaving her before a giant oak door.

Carol stares at the door and bites her lip, her hands clutching the fabrics of her skirt tightly. She is jittery. She doesn't want to go in there. Her legs feel heavy and the urge to be sick is strong.

Once she goes in there then there is no turning back.

Her future husband - some horrible, snobby Kree elite - is behind those doors.

She could still run. All she needs to do is turn around and fly out of here. No one could stop her. No one could catch her.

She inhales deeply and pushes open the door.

Her heart clenches. Her entire body rooted to the ground. It is worse than she ever could have imagined.

"Yon-Rogg?"

She should have run.

* * *

Carol's instincts were to photon blast him across the room, right into the wedding hall. It would serve him right, after everything he has done. She had let him off lightly the last time they had seen each other on Earth. Her hands clench at her sides, her eyes narrowing. Her breathing has become harder as rage and hurt flares to life inside her.

"Hello Vers," Yon-Rogg said, taking a step closer.

She is startled to realise he is not wearing his Starforce uniform. He almost looks, dare she say it, princely. He is wearing a billowy blue poet shirt, a black fastened vest with intricate embroidery, a dark blue cape over one shoulder, black trousers and knee-high boots. It is the fanciest she has ever seen him. Everything else about him is the same as when she last saw him, same sandy brown hair, golden eyes and handsome face.

_All dressed up for my wedding day, huh?_ Carol muses bitterly.

"Well look at you," Yon-Rogg said, glancing her up and down. There is appreciation in his eyes and something else, something heated. If she didn't know any better she would have called it desire. "You clean up nicely."

Carol keeps her face impassive, refusing to let him know how uncomfortable she feels. As if this whole ordeal couldn't have gotten any worse, Yon-Rogg is here to see her downfall in all its dolled up glory.

"Though you look nothing like a Kree bride. That is not the dress nor make-up that we instructed the Xanderian's to put you in."

Letting her dress in her Earth traditional wear must have been a small act of spite by the Nova Prime, a silent way to rebel.

"Well, I didn't want to look tacky on my wedding day," Carol quips with a tight smile.

Yon-Rogg narrows his eyes. "I missed you on planet E-23."

"Trinity," Carol corrects, refusing to let him call it by the Kree name for it. They like to rename planets. All but their own precious Hala receives numbers and letter codes. Nothing personal, nothing that allows a planet to stand out against their own, just another number in their systems. "And you've missed me on a lot of planets. Lost your touch or am I just to good for you?"

Oh, how easy it was to fall into old ways, but there is none of the playfulness in her banter, just a vicious need to wound. To make him feel even a flicker of the pain he has brought upon her with all his lies and back-sabbing.

"Considering I trained you it stands to reason that you wouldn't be easy to track down," Yon-Rogg said smugly.

Carol frowns, irked. Point to Yon-Rogg.

"What are you doing here?" She looks pointedly at his outfit. "No Starforce uniform today? Don't tell me I got you fired?"

"No, you didn't," Yon-Rogg snorts. "I'm still the Commander, held in high esteem."

"I suppose the Supreme Intelligence has slim pickings for replacements. The Kree always were lacking in the talent and skills department." She enjoys the way that his jaw clenches, a telltale sign that he is annoyed. Good. "I take it you're on guard duty then? Incognito for this charming event."

Yon-Rogg lowers his head and laughs, it was dark, unsettling and echos around the vast, empty room. Carol can't see what he found so funny.

"Has your sense of humour taken a nose-dive like your sense of fashion?" Carol challenges, crossing her arms.

"They didn't tell you, did they?"

"Tell me what?"

Yon-Rogg slowly stalks towards her, his boots clicking against the mosaic floor until he stops a few inches away. She glares up at him, refusing to let his proximity un-nerve her - at least, not visibly anyway. Up this close, she can smell that familiar scent of him, his favourite berry soap and something just distinctly Yon-Rogg. She doesn't like the warmth it brings to her, how it was a smell that used to bring her comfort it for meant that he was close and that she was safe, back when she believed that he had her back, that he would never hurt her.

Outside in the main hall, a bell chimes loudly. _One... two... three..._

"Who it is that you're marrying," Yon-Rogg said, tilting his head. "Who do you think would be the most appropriate Kree?"

_Six... seven..._

Carol's frown deepens. No matter how much had she asked, Nova Corps had cleverly skirted around telling her the name of her fiancé.

_Your husband to be is waiting for you in the next room,_ the handmaiden had said. Yon-Rogg is the only one here.

_Nine... ten..._

Carol feels the blood drain from her face, her body going cold. Her eyes widen and she takes an unwilling step back. There was no way that- it couldn't possibly be. But Yon-Rogg, despite his preference for living in humble dwellings and scorning lavish lifestyles, was the son of a wealthy family. He was _the eldest son of an influential and elite clan _and _a high ranking Commander, well respected among the Kree populace... _someone of_ equal value_ to her_... a hero to the people..._

_No... no, there is no way in hell, _Carol thinks, aghast. It is hard to swallow, her throat has gone dry. _The symbol on the gauntlets, that's why I recognised it. It's his family crest, the clan of Rogg. _

"Oh my god. It's you, is it?" Carol whispers.

_Fourteen..._

The grand doors open, bright light pours into the room. There is a blue and orange carpet of petals leading up to a circular platform in the centre of the room where the minister awaits. Streams of light blue organza entwined with white fairy lights are pinned across the ceilings and walls. The crowds remain submerged in darkness. The alter and pathway are the only lit areas in the room. High above, the stars twinkle through the glass ceiling. The setting is as enchanting as it is foreboding.

Carol does not want to enter the room, her legs have gone numb, her heart is beating painfully against her chest.

She cannot believe this. She feels like she's been sucker-punched. This has to be a despicable joke.

"Why would you agree to this?" Carol hisses, looking at Yon-Rogg, nothing hiding her distress.

"What makes you think I had any more choice than you did?" he challenges.

This is why they didn't tell her who her husband was to be, they probably knew she would have high-tailed it out of there if she knew who she was marrying. She feels tricked and the lividness that sears through her gives her the strength not to flinch when Yon-Rogg takes her arm in his. She keeps her face stony, her eyes trained ahead. The handmaidens have materialised from the darkness, their candles lit as they begin the solemn walk down the aisle. Somewhere in the darkness, a light melody plays.

_This is not a wedding,_ Carol thinks,_ this is a funeral march. A walk to the gallows._

"Ready?" Yon-Rogg mummers, his lips brushing against her ear. Carol barely contains the shiver it sends down her spine.

She says nothing and moves forward forcefully, jolting Yon-Rogg and almost making him lose his footing. She smirks a little, noticing the way he glares at her at the corner of her eyes. She could already tell that this would be the beginning of a _wonderful_ marriage.


	3. Part III

**(A/N)** Heads up, there's some nudity in this chapter. xx

* * *

"We are gathered here today, to witness the bonding of two souls from across the stars. After this day, they will forever be one body, one soul, and one blood."

The Minister is a Krylorian who lives outside the Kree and Xanderian Empires. He is short and skinny, with dark grey hair and bright green eyes. He is dressed in lush white robes with detailed golden embroidery. Carol knows it is not this man's fault for her plight, but she cannot help but scowl at him. Whether he knows it or not, he is locking the door of her cell. The Minister eyes her nervously, as though wary that at any moment she may rear up and attack him.

Yon-Rogg stands beside her, their arms still linked, his grip tight. Her handmaidens have divided into two groups, lining themselves at either side of the alter, their candles still burning. They stand there silent and eerily still like spectres.

"Their union brings together not only themselves but two mighty empires, ensuring peace and prosperity. Today, Hala and Xander become not only allies but friends," The Minister continues, turning his eyes to the darkness where the crowd watches, unseen. He turns to a table beside him, picking up a small blade. "As is Kree tradition, the couple shall now be blood fastened. If you may, please put both of your hands in front of you, palms up."

This was the part Carol has least been looking forward to. Blood fastening, a ritual that joins two Kree as one, making them mates for life. To her, it is a bizarre tradition and far too intimate for a loveless wedding. If she had had her way, the ritual would have been scrapped but the Kree insisted.

The Minister runs the blade along both of Yon-Rogg's palms, blue blood oozing forth. He then turns to Carol, the dark look on her face making him swallow hard as he timidly slices her palms. Like Yon-Rogg, she doesn't flinch. She turns to face Yon-Rogg, his hands are already raised to meet hers. They join them, their fingers interlocking and she cannot help but notice how his much larger hands eclipse hers. Her wounds sting as they line up with Yon-Rogg's, their blood squeezing together, becoming one. The Minister then retrieves a long blue satin ribbon from the table.

"With this cord, the couple shall be bound," The Minister says.

Carol tries to hide her bitterness as The Minister coils the ribbon around her and Yon-Rogg's hands and wrists, draping the tail ends across their arms. The ribbon feels like a serpents embrace and is no less deadly. It is a pretty chain, but a chain none the less. The blood that spills from her hands is the ink of a death warrant.

"Commander Yon-Rogg of Starforce, eldest of son of clan Rogg, hero to the Kree. Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you swear to protect her, to cherish her, and be faithful to her for as long as you both shall live?"

Perhaps it was her imagination, but she could have sworn Yon-Rogg squeezes her hands. His golden eyes find hers and don't leave them as he speaks. The look in his eyes is intense and makes her heart stutter.

"I do."

_Liar,_ Carol thinks with a snarl.

He had made such promises before, back when she had first woken up on Hala with no memories. And look at how everything had turned out? He hadn't protected her, he had stolen her and her memories. He had not cherished her, he had used and lied to her. He had not faithful to her, he had been devoted to his precious Supreme Intelligence. Now would be no different. It was nothing but lip service. More lies and empty promises. The vows meant nothing.

The Minister turns to Carol. "And do you Vers-"

"That is not my name," Carol said coldly, her eyes shifting to glare at The Minister. He looks startled, shrinking back a little. Her eyes meet Yon-Rogg's, alight with a challenge. "It's Carol Danvers, not Vers. Never Vers."

The Minister clears his throat. "Forgive me. Do you _Carol_ Danvers, Captain Marvel, protector of Xander, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you swear to protect him, to cherish him, and be faithful to him for as long as you both shall live?"

Carol furrows her nose in distaste. He does not deserve her protection, her love or loyalty. He had all those things once and he had betrayed her. She feels Yon-Rogg's grip on her hand tightening, a warning. She purses her lips as she answers.

"Yes."

_Only because war is the alternative and its just a little bit worse than you,_ Carol muses bitterly. _Like, 5 per cent worse._

"Then by the power invested in me by the Supreme Courts of both Hala and Xander, I pronounce you husband and wife. May your marriage be one of eternal love and devotion, and may you both bring each other peace as your union brings peace to two empires," The Minister finishes as he reaches for the ribbon and unfastens it. At either side of the altar, the handmaidens blow out their candles. "You may now kiss the bride."

Carol winces and takes a deep breath. She knew this was coming, it was unavoidable. Just one quick kiss and that was it, done. She straightens her shoulders, bracing herself. Yon-Rogg steps forward, his chest brushing against hers. In a surprisingly tender gesture, he tucks a strand of fallen hair behind her ear, his fingers trailing down her neck. He gently tilts her chin up before bringing his lips down to meet hers in a feather-light caress. Carol's eyes shut involuntarily and a chill runs through her as Yon-Rogg's hand slips onto her waist, pushing her closer to him.

It was a kiss that she had dreamt of on Hala, the kiss that she had been sure would happen one day, before the truth had brought her world crashing down. His kiss is warm and pleasant, just like his touch. She feels weak and disgusted with herself that she does not want it to end. He pulls away far too soon, a heated look in his eyes that is startling to see. He is as affected by the kiss as she is. He is breathing harder, his eyes drawn to her lips fleetingly as though he wishes to capture them again.

It is clear that time nor sins has damped the attraction they feel for each other.

Their enchantment is broken when the crowd erupts into applause. The darkness cloaking the spectators is lifted as the lights ease on.

The handmaidens bow their heads, signally that it is time for the newlyweds to lead them from the hall. Yon-Rogg offers her his arm. Reluctantly, Carol takes it. They walk up the altar and down the stairs at the other side where a path of petals heads towards a massive doorway.

They had entered the colosseum as two separate people, and now by the beliefs of the Kree and Xanderians, they were one.

* * *

_I am married to Yon-Rogg,_ Carol thinks dazedly.

It is surreal and has not fully sunk in yet. The man who stole her from her world, who lied to her for six years and then chased her across the stars is now her husband. But it shouldn't- no, it _doesn't_ matter. The title means nothing and the peace treaty does not change the fact that they are still at war, that they are still enemies. The only thing that has altered is the battlefield in which they will fight.

She sips at her wine, trying to ignore the bustling and chattering around her. She sits at the head of a large banquet table, Yon-Rogg by her side. The table is covered in many exotic and elaborately decorative foods. There is a strong sweet fragrance in the air and Carol is not sure whether it comes from the streams of flowers hanging from the ceilings and walls or the food.

A server comes around, placing a large golden plate between her and Yon-Rogg.

"Why is there only one plate?" Carol frowns, seeing everyone else has begun to eat.

Yon-Rogg leans in close, his breath tickling her neck. "The bride and groom share their first meal as newlyweds together. To symbolise unity."

"Well isn't that sweet," Carol says dryly.

She and Yon-Rogg develope a rhythm, taking turns of picking at the plate, both of them pointedly ignoring the other. The food is rich and vibrant, no expensive having been spared. It is when dessert comes around though, that Carol's interest peaks. Placed before her is a large bowl of crema, a Hala desert which resembles Earth's ice cream. It was creamy, amber coloured and has caramel nuts inside it - her favourite part, though they were always stingy with the nuts.

She is about to dig in when the women next to her speaks, stealing her attention. She is a blue-skinned Kree dressed in an emerald gown, gleaming jewels wrapped around her neck and wrists - a noblewoman, if Carol ever saw one. She has a haughty air about her and she speaks with a tone that borders on snobby.

"Are you looking forward to returning to Hala, Lady Rogg?"

Carol tenses, displeased by the name and title. She doesn't dare look at Yon-Rogg, not wanting to see his reaction to her new title.

"Can't wait," she says without enthusiasm.

"It is a shame you will have to spend half of the year on Xander. Hardly an appropriate place to raise children," the women tuts.

Carol takes a large sip of her wine.

"Indeed," another Kree chimes in, an older gentleman with greying hair and a manicured beard. His uniform suggests that he is apart of the Kree military. "They leave their borders open to all manners of creatures. I'm surprised they have not yet been overrun by Skrulls."

Carol's grip on her glass tightens. She reminds herself that she is doing this for the greater good, that knocking out two high-ranking Kree will not help anyone no matter how satisfying it may be.

"Who's to say they haven't," the women replies.

Carol is ready to shoot them down with a scathing retort when Yon-Rogg leans forward, staring both of them down. "May I remind you that this is a peace treaty between Hala and Xander. Speaking in such an uncouth manner of our new allies is ill-adviced."

The couple makes hasty apologies and continue their meals in silence.

_Serves them right,_ Carol thinks, happy that they have been put in their place. She does not thank Yon-Rogg for his intervention. It is the least he can do.

Carol turns back to the plate. There is only one caramel nut left. She glares at Yon-Rogg as he dabs a napkin to his mouth, an innocent look on his face. He knows the nuts are her favourite part. He has eaten them just to annoy her. She watched through narrowed eyes as Yon-Rogg brings his fork back to the plate, ready to snatch the last nut. With much vindictiveness, Carol moves to stab the last caramel nut for herself, nearly stabbing Yon-Rogg in the process. He is faster, avoiding her jab and nudging her with an elbow into her ribs, knocking her fork off course. He is able to swoop in and capture the nut on his own fork.

_Bastard._ She wants nothing more than to wipe that insufferably smug look off his face. Carol is ready to protest when he turns to her, bringing the nut to her lips.

Was he really trying to feed her? Nowhere in the treaty did it say anything about them playing pretend at being a happy couple.

_Fine then,_ she muses, _two can play at this game._

She smiles sweetly, leaning forward as though to eat it. Yon-Rogg seems taken aback by her sudden change in demeanour, a wariness in his eyes. Even now, he knows her well enough to know that she is up to something.

Carol's hand slips around his wrist and before he can do anything she sends a mild shock through him. He hisses and his grip on the fork loosens enough that Carol is able to pry it from him. She brings his fork to her mouth, eating the last nut.

"Static electricity," Carol bluffs as she swallows her food. "I always knew that there was a spark between us, Commander."

Yon-Rogg scowls at her, disgruntled but making no move to call her out on her lie and using her powers. Doing so would cause trouble for the peace treaty. She wonders if he was for or against it. Yon-Rogg had never been one for senseless violence, if there was a peaceful solution which minimised or eradicated the potential for people being harmed, he took it. He didn't enjoy hurting or killing people, but he wasn't above it either if that was what it took to accomplish his mission. _For the good of all Kree_, as he would say. But this treaty hardly benefited the Kree, with the exception of landing her in their clutches. She supposes he is inclined to make sure nothing jeopardises it, least he risk her escaping them again.

To Yon-Rogg, this marriage is nothing but a way to capture and control her. It is a mission, nothing more.

She must not let herself forget it. She can't let herself be swept up by how easy it is to fall into old patterns. He makes it so easy to forget his crimes, to forget that they are no longer allies and friends. She wants more than anything to hate him with her entire being.

But she cannot.

* * *

After the celebration feasts, the night is ended and the crowd departs after sharing the couple their best wishes. Afterwards, Carol's handmaidens collect her and lead her to her accommodations. Or at least, that's where she thought they were leading her. When she enters the room they have led her to she turns to them in confusion.

"This isn't a bedroom."

The room is like a garden, blooming flowers, trees and greenery are everywhere. There is a rock pool with a tumbling waterfall, a light mist spraying across the surface of the water. The room is illuminated with blue fairy lights hidden throughout the branches and bushes.

"It's a bathing room," one of the handmaidens' supplies. "Your bathrobe is on the rock bench by the pool. We will wait outside. If you need any assistance just shout."

One of the handmaidens stays behind to help her out of her dress. Carol sends her out with the gown, refusing to take off her undergarments until she is alone. Once the door is shut, she slips out of her underwear, placing them on the bench.

The washroom is a little overtop, but she won't deny that she is eager to get into the pool. She dips her toe in first, quickly pulling it out. The water is chilly but after the day she has had it'll refresh her. She lowers herself in, finding the pool is deep enough for her to stand, the water reaching below her breasts. She sighs contently and combs her hair from her face with her fingers. She allows herself to fall backwards and floats in the water, enjoying the coolness on her skin.

She has been soaking for about ten minutes when a sharp intake of breath startles her into alertness. She jumps to her feet.

Yon-Rogg is standing there, mouth slightly agape. He is shirtless, had probably been in the process of undressing before he noticed her in the pool. Mortification snaps her out of her shocked stupor. Her cheeks blush red and she ducks into the water, arms covering her breasts.

"What are you doing in here?" she all but shrieks. "Get out!"

Dear Gods, he has seen her naked! She wants to drown herself from embarrassment, or better yet, drown _him_. What was he even doing in here?

"I- I didn't realise you were here already," Yon-Rogg turns away, his back rigid.

"Well now you do, so get out!" Carol snaps.

"I'm not meant to leave until we're both washed."

"What do you mean?"

"Did they not inform you about the bathing ceremony?"

"No," Carol drawls, eyes widening. The Xanderians seemed to be leaving her in the dark about a lot of important information. "What is that?"

Yon-Rogg sighs, looking heavenwards. "After the wedding celebration, the couple bathe together and remove one another's markings."

Oh, is that what he thought was about to happen? He was about to be severely disappointed.

"We are not bathing together nor am I washing you or letting you anywhere near me with a sponge," Carol scoffs. "And what markings? I don't have any."

"If you had been dressed as you should have you would have had your skin painted."

He sounds a little put-off, almost like he was sour about it. Yon-Rogg had always been quite conservative when it came to traditions, he was probably displeased that they were not following Kree marriage traditions down to the letter. If he had had his way she would have been dressed in the way of a Kree bride.

She remembers what her dress designer had said about Kree brides painting themselves. There is a black symbol on Yon-Rogg's back, though it is too small for her to make out from the pool. When she had seen his torso, there had been black markings all across his chest and arms.

"Keep your eyes to the front while I get ready," Carol says threateningly. "If you look, you die."

She swims over to the rocks and pulls herself up, reaching for the bathrobe draped across the bench. She covers herself up before clearing her throat. Yon-Rogg slowly turns around, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes hesitantly find hers. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn there was a light blush to his cheeks.

"I thought only brides paint their bodies," Carol says, gesturing to the markings on his body. They had been hidden during the wedding under his garments.

"No, the grooms do it too."

Cautiously, Carol approaches him, her eyes scanning over each of the symbols. Without realising what she is doing, she reaches out and traces her hand over the swirling rings of stars above his heart. "What do they mean?"

He studies her for a moment, unsure whether or not to tell her. Finally, he sighs.

"Each one is a memory, a memory of our time together. During the bathing ceremony, couples reminisce over them before washing each others body, cleansing it for new memeories to be made during their union. Memories we wish to keep are painted on the front of our body, regrets and negative ones on the back."

"You have quite a lot of memories of us that you want to keep," Carol says, eyes lingering across his chest. Her gaze turns sharp as she looks up into his golden eyes. "Do you enjoy thinking about all the ways you lied and tricked me?"

Yon-Rogg catches her hand and brings it to his chest, just above his heart. She can feel his heartbeat thudding quickly.

"What we had wasn't a lie," he said quietly.

"Yes, it was."

"I hid your past from you to protect you, hate me for it if you must, but I did what I thought was right. Not just for the Kree but for you as well."

"You're delusional if you think that kidnapping me and stealing my memories was to help me!" Carol grits out. "You took me from my home, my friends, my family! Everything that I knew!"

"You would have died had I not shared my blood with you," Yon-Rogg growls, taking another step closer so there bodies touch. He stares down at her, nothing but conviction in his eyes. "You live because of my choice. There is nothing you could say that will make me regret that."

"And what about tricking me into fighting an unjust war?"

"The Skrull are the enemy, they have been at war with us for centuries. They are a threat, not just to us but to everyone."

Carol sighs harshly, infuriated by his reasoning. He was a stubborn, blind fool.

"There's no point arguing about this," Carol bites out. "I don't think you'll ever let yourself see reason. I think you genuinely believe that you are helping people, but you're not. Maybe one day you'll wake up and realise who the real villain was all along."

Carol yanks her hand free and begins to storm off, but Yon-Rogg darts forward, grabbing her wrist and pulls her back. She stumbles into his chest.

"I meant what I said. Nothing between us was a lie. Everything I felt for you was real."

Carol narrows her eyes, her hands resting upon his muscled chest, fingertips touching the writings. She swallows hard, unable to look away from his penetrating gaze.

"And what did you feel for me?"

It is a dangerous question, one she never should have asked. She should have shrugged him off, photon blasted him across the room and walked away. But a part of her that has been buried for over a decade yearns to know. No, she _needs_ to know. Was anything real? Truly? Had there been something between them? They had been best friends. They had meant everything to each other. She didn't want to believe that it had all been a ruse. Every time she thought of him, she told herself that everything had been a lie, that he hadn't cared, that their friendship and everything else was nothing but a means to manipulate her. Her assurances though fueling her anger and hurt, did nothing to destroy the part of her that refused to believe it. She didn't want what they had to be taken away from her.

"I think you know."

"Maybe I want you to say it."

Yon-Rogg tilts his head and leans forward, his lips a breathe away from hers as he speaks. "I didn't want things to turn out like this. Yet its what is being demanded of me, it's my duty as it is yours. I have no misunderstandings of what this union means to you. It's a means to an end."

"Just as it is for you."

Yon-Rogg nods, his other hand soothing its way up her arm. "Yes, but I wish it was more than that. I have wanted you since I first saw you by the lake, and every day since then my thoughts have been consumed by you. Nothing I did would make it go away."

Yon-Rogg brushes his lips against hers, light and hesitant. Carol licks her lips and against her better judgement, she kisses him. Yon-Rogg's hand slips into her wet tresses, gripping them and pulling her closer. Carol groans and opens her mouth, granting his tongue entrance.

She knows they should not be doing this. It will lead to nothing but disappointment. Yet she cannot bring herself to care.

Yon-Rogg breaks the kiss and moves his mouth to her neck, planting kiss after kiss along it. She can hear the slick noises of his tongue caressing her skin and feel the wet patches each kiss leaves behind. Carol clutches his back, one hand running through his sandy locks. As her hand slides down to his right upper arm, she notices one of the markings. It looks like a crooked tree with a spiral inside.

"What memory is this marking?" She asks, sounding breathless.

"The mission to Solstice," he answers, his lips moving back to work another part of her neck.

"The one where we got lost in the forest?"

"You mean the one where you got lost in the forest and I had to come save you. Again."

Carol laughs and pulls his hair, forcing him to look at her. "What was your favourite thing about it? That mission was hell."

"It was," he agrees, "But I did get to hold you in my arms."

"I was unconscious."

She had gotten herself knocked out after slipping on a slope. Yon-Rogg had been forced to carry her back to the ship. The teasing she had gotten from Att-Lass and Bron-Char had been relentless.

"An added bonus as it meant you were quiet for once," Yon-Rogg quips teasingly.

Carol gives him a dirty look.

He chuckles and kisses her again, his teeth knocking against hers. Carol runs her hands across his chest, fingers entangling in his chest hair. She presses herself closer to him, their bodies grinding against the other.

"What about the one on your left breast? The sun. It looks a lot like Del-Ra's national symbol. You went on a mission there but I never did."

"No, you didn't. But you were jealous that Minn-Erva got to go undercover with me as my wife."

"I was _not_ jealous," Carol scoffs, rolling her eyes.

"Oh really?" Yon-Rogg quirks an eyebrow. "Is that why you kept picking fights with her and refused to speak to me for a week for not taking you?"

Carol wants to protest, cringing at the memory of how she has acted. She had been jealous. It hadn't helped that Minn-Erva had lorded it over her for weeks.

Yon-Rogg moves his hands and cups her face, his forehead resting against hers.

"What I love most about that memory was that it was the first time I suspected..." Yon-Rogg trails off, his eyes soften as he gazes at her face.

"Suspected what?" Carol murmurs.

"That you had feelings for me too."

Carol closes her eyes and kisses him again. Once she had broken the kiss, she rests her head on his shoulder, slipping her arms around his waist. Yon-Rogg returns the embrace and nuzzles his head against her hair, planting soft kisses on the back of her neck. Carol's fingers tips feel the paint of the symbol of his back.

"What does the mark on your back mean?"

He had said the marks placed on the back where memories to be forgotten, that they were regrets.

"The day I let you go," Yon-Rogg whispers,

She stills for a beat then gently places her hands on his chest, pushing him away so she can see him. He looks at her curiously, then before he can react, she shoves him into the bath.

The day he let her go, huh? That was the day he regretted, nothing else?

She stomps out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her and startling her handmaidens. In the washroom, she can hear her _darling_ husband spluttering and splashing in the water. She can imagine him standing now, soaking wet, hair matted to his face, golden eyes scowling at the door as the ink of those accursed symbols drip from his body.

He had but one regret and it was the only truth between them.

* * *

**(A/N) **The rest of this contains smut so I haven't uploaded it onto here. The story is complete on Ao3 (Archive of Our Own) + you'll find other yonvers stories I've only uploaded onto there. The rules are meh on this site about smut, which is why I haven't uploaded them here. My username for Ao3 is Fairyringsandwings. xx


End file.
